The Good, the Bad, and Harry Potter
by Carrie H Potter
Summary: In his seventh year, Harry Potter decides to change his allegiances. He’s turned his back on everything he knows. Or has he? (one-shot)


**The Good, the Bad, and Harry Potter**

**By:** Carrie H Potter

**Rating: **PG

**Genre: **Drama/Suspense

**Summary: **In his seventh year, Harry Potter decides to change his allegiances. He's turned his back on everything he knows. Or has he? (one-shot)

**Disclaimer: **I don't own any of the Harry Potter characters. The story, however, is my own, my _preciousssss_ (LOTR rocks!).

**A/N: **This is my first attempt at anything but happy, slash fics. I came up with this idea randomly one night while I was trying to fall asleep. I immediately sat up and wrote this. Needless to say, I didn't sleep at all, and was a zombie all the next day. I know it's short, but I didn't want to drag it out too much. I'm kinda proud of it, but that doesn't mean anything (don't trust my judgment, trust me…wait…). Hope you like it! _Italics are __flashbacks, by the way._

and so, here is…

The Good, the Bad, and Harry Potter

Death is not an option. Death was never an option. I am a Slytherin and a Malfoy, after all. We do not fear death, but we also do not taunt it like those foolhardy Gryffindors. And since death is not an option, I am not on the side of the Light. The Light has no chance. The Dark will prevail and all those of the Light will die. Why will the Light fail and the Dark succeed? Simple. We have Harry Potter.

What's that? Harry Potter is on the Light side, you say? You've been fraternizing with those bloody Gryffindorks, haven't you? Oh sure, Harry Potter _was_ on the Light side. He _was_ a brave, foolish crony of that old idiot Dumbledore. He _was_.

Now he's a cunning, cynical Death Eater. Oh yes. Harry Potter is a Death Eater. He has been since the middle of seventh year. But I'm getting ahead of myself. I suppose you want to know what the hell I'm carrying on about, so you can prove me wrong. Sadly, you'll never get that privilege.

I guess it was about the October of our seventh year when Potter cornered me outside my common room.

"_Malfoy, can I talk to you?" he asked nervously._

_"Why the hell would I want to talk to you, Potter?" I asked nastily, turning on the good old Malfoy 'charm.'_

"Look, Malfoy," he looked everywhere but at my face, "you're the only one that can help me with this problem I have."

I was surprised, to say the least. Potter needed my help with a problem. More importantly, he was _admitting_ it. I was intrigued.

_"The great Harry Potter with a problem? When will the lightening strike?" I smirked. _Just because I was intrigued didn't mean I was going to be anything but myself.

_"Shut up, Malfoy," he spat, the usual Potter bravado returning in full force, "I'll find help somewhere else. Guess your Master won't be too pleased with you," he muttered before starting to walk away._

_Startled, I ran after him, "Hey, Potter, wait up!" _Potter mentioning the Dark Lord was about as rare as Crabbe forming a sentence longer than ten words. Exactly.

_He stopped and looked back at me. I was shocked to see tears running down his face. "Forget it, Malfoy. It was stupid to begin with."_

_"You mentioned my 'Master,'" I pressed on, determined to find out what he had meant, "what was that all about?"_

_"What part of 'Forget about it' don't you understand?" he snarled. _This was a side of Potter I'd never seen before.

"Please, Potter," I pleaded, surprised at the urgency in my voice, "I'll help you. Just tell me what you were talking about."

_He looked at me doubtfully, "You will?" I nodded and sighing, he started, "Well, I got to thinking a couple of…"_

_"Wait!" I interrupted, "Not here," and I grabbed his arm and dragged him into an empty classroom. "Ok."_

_He looked nervous again, "Well, I started thinking at the beginning of the term…"_

I couldn't help myself, _"You were thinking, Potter? That's definitely something to be worried about…"_

I expected him to walk away again, but all he said was, _"Are you done?" _in a patient voice.

_I nodded, and he continued, nervous again, "I'm tired of it," he said bluntly, "I'm tired of fighting Voldemort and I'm tired of following all of Dumbledore's orders. I just want to be finished. I want you to take me to Voldemort- to finish it."_

I stared at him, my mouth moving but no words coming out. A Malfoy is never speechless. Of course it would be Potter who could reduce me to looking like an overgrown goldfish. _"Haha, Potter, very funny. What is this? A plot to get me to admit I'm a Death Eater? Well, it's not going to work," and **I** started to walk away._

_Potter grabbed my arm, "It's not, Malfoy. I swear." He looked like a light bulb had just turned on over his head, "Question me under the influence of Veritaserum!"_

I stared at him. He really must be serious. _"Fine. Come on," and I started to walk towards the Potions classroom._

That was how I found out that Harry Potter did indeed want to die at the hands of the Dark Lord. I agreed to take him with me the next time I was summoned.

&&&

Well, do you believe me yet? Do you believe that Saint Potter is actually a broken, pathetic loser? You really are an idiot.

It was two months before I was again summoned to a meeting of the Death Eaters. I signaled Potter in the way we had agreed. I got into a fight with him and we were sent to the hospital wing. We snuck out of the castle and off of the grounds. We used the Port-key I'd been sent.

I'll never forget the look on the Dark Lord's face when he saw Potter standing next to me. His usual cold, calculating glare quickly left his face, and what replaced it could only be described as a smile. Lord Voldemort was smiling. Potter seems to have the oddest effect on people, that's for sure.

_"Well, well, Draco, what have we here?" he asked silkily, "Is that Harry Potter? Did you bring him here to me?"_

_"No," I said, surprising myself_ (I was going to give Potter credit for this?), _"he's here of his own free will."_

_He turned to Potter, "Is that true, Harry? You came here to see me?"_ He looked as if Christmas had come early.

_Potter nodded slowly and for the first time started to speak, "Yes, Voldemort, I came here to seek you out. I want you to finish it. I can't take it anymore," he added quietly._

_The Dark Lord started to laugh, "So, you've finally given up, have you, Harry? Finally realized you can't beat me?" Potter nodded numbly. He started to laugh harder, "You have no idea how long I've waited for this. Do you fear death, Harry?" And he pulled his long wand out of his robes and pointed it directly at Potter's chest. When he saw Potter make no visible movement, he lowered his wand and whispered, "You **are** serious, aren't you?" Potter nodded again, looking confused. The Dark Lord saw his confusion and explained his own hesitation, "It just seems so unlike you, Potter. What happened to the brave, gallant, and stupid Gryffindor?" He started to put his wand away._

_Potter lowered his head so he was speaking directly to the ground, "I'm tired of the hiding and all the pressure put on me by Dumbledore. He's worse than you when it comes to making my life miserable. I just want out," he closed his eyes, "Do it."_

_The Dark Lord had put his wand away completely, "Potter, open your eyes." Potter's eyes snapped open in surprise. "How would you like to join me, Harry?"_

Potter seemed to remember who he was at that exact instant, _"Are you insane? You're a murderer! A psycho! Why would you even ask that?"_

The rest of us wanted to know the same thing. _"Simple, Harry. Besides me, you are the most powerful wizard in the world: much more powerful than that old fool. He must have realized this and that's why he's keeping you under his thumb so much. Together, we could honestly take over the world. Join me, Harry. Get back at Dumbledore for all he's done to you. Get back at those muggles who made your life miserable. Muggles are not important, Harry. Only power is." He held out his hand to Potter._

Potter studied it for the longest time, looking as if it might bite him. And then he did the oddest thing. He stepped forward and took it.

&&&

And so, Potter became Harry to me. The Dark Lord used Veritaserum on him, of course, to make sure his professions were true. And they were. So, Harry became a Death Eater. He received the Dark Mark that very night, and he quickly became the Dark Lord's right hand man. You'd be surprised at how twisted Harry's mind really is. Some of the Dark Lord's most gruesome plans were made up with his help.

Nothing changed at school. Harry and the Dark Lord decided that he should do what I do: plead ignorance. So, Harry continued to be the Gryffindor Golden Boy. He continued to go to all of Dumbledore's planning sessions and we'd all have a good laugh at them later. No one suspected a thing. Which is so stupid, because there was an obvious change in Harry's behavior. He was more withdrawn than he'd ever been and he just looked decidedly more evil. Harry never was a good actor.

Harry and I took to meeting in classrooms late at night to discuss the Dark Lord's plans. I was surprised when I found him increasingly easier to talk to, and I was even starting to enjoy some of our late night discussions. It worried me at first, but now I just figure, oh well, he's on my side, so who the hell cares?

Have I convinced you? Finally. Took you long enough. Why did you need to know all this? Yes, no doubt you would have rather been ignorant until the end. But, you see, this is the end.

I am standing here, among the other Death Eaters, waiting for Harry's arrival. But he will not be alone. The plan that he and the Dark Lord have been concocting for months is finally taking place.

It is quite simple really. The Dark Lord made his whereabouts known a few days ago, and Harry told us when Dumbledore planned to attack. Harry will come with most of the Light's resistance, and he will join his Master.

Ah, here they come now: Harry at the front of them, wand drawn, with the old fool behind him. "Voldemort!" he yells, eyes blazing, "this ends tonight!" And he walks right up to the Dark Lord. You never were a good actor, Harry. It is so obvious you're up to something.

"Indeed it does, Mr. Potter," the Dark Lord spits out, a very good actor indeed, "and you will finally meet your downfall."

"I don't think so, you slime!" Arg, laying it on a little thick there, aren't you, Harry? By the look on the Master's face, you'll get it later for that one.

The old fool steps up behind him, and lays his hand on Harry's shoulder, "You can do it, my boy. Just remember everything I've taught you," and steps back.

"Yes, my dear boy, you can do it. Just remember everything I've taught you," the Dark Lord singsongs in a mocking voice. Dumbledore looks slightly confused. "Do it now, Harry," the Dark Lord whispers excitedly, "do it now to prove your loyalty to me once and for all!"

"Yes, Master," Harry states firmly and spins to face Dumbledore, the wand now pointing at his chest.

"Harry?" the old man questions weakly, confusion and fear evident on his face.

"I'm sorry, you old fool," Harry spits out, not sounding sorry at all, "but you made my life horrible and now you're going to pay for what you did." He gets a malicious glint in his eye, "I dare you to fight back. You know I am more powerful."

Dumbledore's wand drops to the ground, and you can almost hear his heart breaking. The twinkle has permanently left his eyes and he seems resigned to his fate. He tries to meet the emerald eyes one last time as Harry stares at him, ready to speak the two unforgivable words. As their eyes meet, the twinkle returns. All that happens next is in slow motion.

Harry whips around and, pointing his wand at the Dark Lord, bellows, "I could never follow you. AVADA KEDAVRA!" The Dark Lord falls to the ground, dead, a look of pure shock evident on his face. This seems to wake up the rest of the Light wizards and they start hexing every Death Eater in sight.

Harry walks slowly over to the Dark Lord's dead body and glares down at it, "I knew you'd be too arrogant to just kill me," he mutters in a disgusted voice, "You'd have to parade your 'accomplishment' around for all to see." He starts to walk away, but something holds him back and he turns again, "You once asked me if I fear death," he spits out venomously, "I fear nothing you could have done to me. Oh, and by the way, Veritaserum has no effect on me."

I just stand here, staring at Harry through tear-filled eyes. Malfoys never used to cry. But they do now. Harry looks at me. "It was all a lie?" I manage to choke out.

"Yes," he whispers, before he shoots a beam of red light at me.

You are one hell of an actor, Harry Potter.

_Fin._

**A/N: **So…what's the verdict? Should I write more like this or stick to my day job (happy, slashy, Knock Firsty)? Do you want a sequel in Harry's POV? It was fun writing and I hope you had fun reading. Please tell me what you think when you REVIEW!


End file.
